


Approval

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Jesse meets the dragons and gets their approval for dating their respective hostsNB. As with all my McShimada fics, I only ship it in a "V" set up (ie. McGenji + McHanzo), but without any shipping between the shimada-bros.





	Approval

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my McShimada fics, I only ship them in a “V” set up (McCree/Genji + McCree/Hanzo) but without shipping between the Shimada-bros.
> 
> Also, throwback to my fic "Ritual" which you can find here on AO3 too.
> 
> [Original Posted:](http://aluxra.tumblr.com/post/162061260582/mcshimada-jesse-meeting-those-shimada-dragons) Jun 20th, 2017

McCree started awake.

Years of running with Deadlock followed by years of training in Blackwatch followed by years spent on the run ruined him for anything other than light sleeping. He would never be able to enjoy lazy Sunday mornings in the thralls of half-wakefulness or the sweet liminality of post-dreaming moments, but he could always be relied upon to be up, alert, and ready to engage no matter how little sleep he had had or how far down he had gone.

So, question:  _what_  had woken him?

The night still had the world in its darkest clutches, the bedroom drenched in shadow. Blue-silver moonlight split through the ink spill of blackness, relieving the room of some of the deepest shadows. On either side of him, Hanzo and Genji continued to sleep peacefully, stretching out to accommodate the entirety of the queen bed the three shared.

Usually, McCree found himself sharing with only one or the other when the mood struck, while the other retired to their spare room. Not the perfect set up, but there wasn't a guide on how to approach a relationship such as theirs, so they winged it. Nights like these, fresh back from a mission – whether it had separated them for several long weeks or had dragged all of them through the wringer and threw them back out - found all three of them sharing a bed together, taking comfort in each other’s company.

McCree rubbed his eyes, and pulled himself into sitting position. Hanzo murmured in his sleep as his arm – his left - slid from around McCree’s waist onto his lap, and he wriggled on his stomach to get comfortable again. On his wrist, the dragon glared up at McCree through the darkness: he could clearly see it’s inked eyes even in the pale moonlight.

McCree tore his eyes away from the unblinking stare and looked around the room. Nothing appeared out of place, and there were no hidden corners that could effectively conceal someone creeping in. McCree huffed a breath, dragging a hand through his hair, and cursed himself for post mission paranoia. He slid back down onto his back, ready to nod off again when a pulse of light fluttered in the corner of his vision.

He whipped his head around, pushing himself back up on locked arms, and turned to Genji while he slept.

One of his pillows had been lost to the floor at some point during the night, the other pushed up against the headboard. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, the covers rucked down low over his bare abdomen. Scars littered his skin, missing only from the synthetic mesh running up his sides and around his back.

The light flickered again: it glowed a faint green gold, spilling out across the bedsheets. It came from under Genji’s back, where his dragon tattoo had once been.

McCree blinked, squinting at the growing flare of light. He reached out to touch Genji’s shoulder, when everything seemed to happen at once.

The green light erupted from Genji, the room engulfed in it. Behind McCree, a flash of electric blue joined it, speckling McCree’s vision with black dots. Blinking to clear his vision, he looked between his two partners wildly as twin roars shook the room. Hanzo and Genji continued to sleep unawares, while McCree watched with widening eyes as two dragons pulled themselves from their skin, their great, blocky heads rising up to the ceiling on thick necks. Manes haloed their broad heads, rippling as they swung round until McCree had two pairs of opalescent white eyes - veined with shades of green and blue and gold and even purples and pinks – staring at him.

He recognised them instantly: he had seen them on the battlefield and, in the case of the scarred green one with the broken horn, had come face to face with them during one of Genji’s ritual meditations.

McCree opened his mouth to say something – or, if desperation called for it, scream – when the dragons opened their own, wide, and fell on him with powerful jaws lined with knife-like teeth. He lost himself in a kaleidoscope of fractured, shimmering light, a sense of weightlessness overcoming him and making him lightheaded. It spun him round and thrust him forward until he couldn’t figure out which way was up or down until the light blinked out and he crashed into darkness, his knees banging against solid ground and his arms buckling under him when he threw them out to stop his fall.

After what felt like an eternity, sprawled out in a daze, he pulled himself up onto his feet, fighting the disorientation of the pitch blackness surrounding him. The ground was cold and unyielding beneath him, and he couldn’t see his hands when he raised them up. He blinked several times, determining his eyes were open and he was either blind or in absolute darkness. Either way, not good. Not to mention he was in nothing but his underwear (most comfortable way to sleep, short of his natural skin, but that was his own business) and had no weapon to defend himself.  _Well, shit._

Without many options left, he cupped his hands around his mouth and drew in a breath to yell, when a deep voice rumbled through his head.

**Do not raise your voice here.**

The words died in his throat, the hair on the back of his neck rising as if electrified. He lowered his hands slowly to his sides, his gaze shifting left and right uselessly.

‘Why?’ he asked the unseen voice. He could guess who it belonged to, and have a 50% chance of being right: how or why they were speaking to him, was another mystery.

**This is the Spirit World.**

‘Don’t look like much, if I’m honest.’

 ** _You are not a spirit._** A new voice, as deep and as consuming as the other, with a hint of teasing despite their next words.  ** _You do not belong here. Others do, and they might be hungry._**

‘Well that’s just dandy. So, why am I here?’

Something moved behind him: he felt the breeze, the change in air pressure, and heard the shift of something like scales across rock. He jumped, stumbling forward, and whirled around, his eyes searching blindly for his abductors.

**_You are the one who lays with our hosts._ **

The tone wasn’t exactly accusatory, but McCree still bristled defensively.

‘Now, hold on there,’ he said. His eyes began to strain against the complete darkness, trying to find some sort of light. He blinked, trying to ease them. ‘I don’t see how that sort of thing is your business whether I do or don't. No offence, fellas.’

**You channelled our power. You are the one our hosts used as a weapon, when all others failed.**

That _did_ sound a little accusatory, and McCree said nothing in rebuttal.

 

_Pinned by a hail of gunfire, the grenade sailed over the half-demolished wall that served as a barrier for him, bounced against the opposite pile of debris and skittered close to his feet._

_'Son of a-'_

_McCree clamped his extinguished cigarillo between his teeth and leapt across the rubble of metal and stone to his left, risking a blind run as fast as could to clear the area. He rolled behind a pair of fallen pillars crisscrossing each other just as an earth shuddering roar erupted from where he had hunkered moments ago, spitting gravel and dirt and fire and smoke into the air. The heat rushed over his face, tossing grit into his eyes and nose, making him cough and sputter._

_Cursing, he wiped his face and rolled out the cylinder of Peacekeeper. Checking his ammo, he cursed again for good measure._

_'McCree? McCree, come in! Are you alright?' Hanzo's voice crackled through the comms, punctuated by the heavy blasts of shotgun fire in the background and the rapid rat-a-tat-tat of automatic fire._

_'Yep, sugar,' he drawled. 'Though it sure ain't gonna last long. I'm nearly outta ammo.'_

_'Where are you?'_

_'South-east side, behind the busted pillars.'_

_'En route.'_

_'Copy that, partner.'_

_Three minutes later, punctuated by the last of McCree's rounds, Hanzo and Genji dropped in beside him, hunkering close to the pillars for protection. Hanzo had a gash to his head, and Genji had lost his arm, his sword sheathed without use._

_'What's the status?' McCree asked, though he could take a guess._

_'Pinned under heavy fire, they're forcing a retreat,' Hanzo explained. 'I'm out of arrows, Genji's lost his arm. We'll need to retreat and regroup.'_

_'Any idea how to get out of this with no weapons?'_

_Hanzo grimaced, looking at Genji, who shrugged, resting back against their barricade. Hanzo clicked his tongue against his teeth, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration._

_'I can distract them, while you run,' he offered. 'Take Genji and get him back to Dr Ziegler--'_

_'Oh, hell, no, darlin',' McCree interrupted. 'Ain't no way I'm leaving either of you behind.'_

_'I am not leaving you either, Hanzo!'_

_'We do not have a choice!' Hanzo argued, the sounds of the fight drawing closer. 'We don't have our weapons, nor another plan. We need--'_

_'I have a plan,' Genji said. Both turned to him. 'Our dragons.'_

_'We don't have our weapons,' Hanzo repeated._

_'One of us does,' Genji replied, nodding to Peacekeeper. Hanzo and Genji shared a look, as if communicating telepathically._

_Hanzo clicked his tongue. 'McCree, we are going to need you to trust us.'_

_'Always do.'_

_'Very well. Genji, go on his left side. McCree, when I say so, stand and draw as if you were going to use the Deadeye. We will do the rest. Understood?'_

_'Understood,' they replied in unison. Genji grabbed McCree's shoulder with his remaining hand, Hanzo grabbed the other as he peered over the rise of the fallen pillars, assessing the ongoing fight. He dropped back down, nodding to them._

_'Okay, ready?'_

_'Just one question, darlin',' McCree said, adjusting to the weight of Hanzo's and Genji's hands on his shoulders, on the arm that held Peackeeper in hand. The familiar sense of calm descended over him, focusing his mind to pinpoint precision: the solid weight of the gun in his hand, the strength of his arm that raised it, his eyes that sought out his targets. Gun, hand, and eye. All he ever needed in that moment._

_'Yes?'_

_'Are you sure about this?'_

 

_No._

 

He thought he would be burned alive from the inside out. The pain had been beyond anything he could ever imagine, his mind whiting out as not one, but two dragons scoured through his veins, spiralling down his arm before they erupted from the barrel of his gun. They had circled each other, like the long twisting chains of DNA – one blue, one green – before McCree’s vision had drained to black and he had woken up two days later in the medical bay back at Watchpoint with Hanzo and Genji hovering over him.

 **Only a Shimada are worthy hosts of dragon fire. Only they may be granted access to our power.**  The first voice brought him back to the present, and he looked around, trying to find it.

‘Technically, they’re still the hosts,’ he argued. ‘I was just “the weapon”, as you say. ‘Sides, things going the way they were, y’all wouldn’t have had any hosts left by the end.’

The dragons said nothing from the darkness around him, and he huffed, tired and annoyed and not all that keen of dying in nothing but his skivvies without his gun in his hand, but not at all keen about being pushed around by a couple of fellas who he couldn’t see. Ancient spirit dragons or not.

‘Look fellas, if you brought me to this spirit world to teach me a lesson or kill me or something of the like, I’d mighty appreciate if I could actually  _see_  what’s about to happen to me,’ he said. ‘If it please ya.’

 ** _You’re not afraid of us, are you?_** The teasing one, who sounded absolutely thrilled at the idea, rumbled through his head.  ** _What a delightful mortal you are._**

‘Well, I appreciate that,’ McCree replied wryly.

 ** _We felt your strength when you temporarily acted as our conduit – the fact alone that you survived can attest further to your strength._**  The dragon almost sounded proud of him, and McCree took that as a good sign, at least. Maybe he’d be getting out of this alive, after all.  ** _While others would have perished, as would be a just end to their violation of us, you did not. As such, we will not harm you, nor allow harm to come to you from another._**

‘Well… thanks, I suppose.’

 **Be warned though.**  The first dragon this time.  **Should you prove yourself unworthy of the dragons, you will meet a most grievous fate.**

‘I’ll be sure to remember that. Quick question, do you mean “the dragons” as in you fellas, or as in—’

**Goodbye, mortal. Stand strong and be true, so we have no reason or need to bring you here again.**

‘Hey, now, wait just a minute—’

He never finished, his vision flooded with light that he snapped his eyes shut, tears welling under the sudden burn of the light. He fell, tumbling away in the whirlwind of light until he bounced unceremoniously back onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling in a half daze for a few long moments, before pushing himself up, looking around the room. Yep, definitely his bedroom. As normal.

Hanzo and Genji stirred, shifting under the covers, but didn’t fully awaken.

‘Hmm? Wazzat?’ Genji mumbled, rolling over and wrapping his arms around McCree’s waist.

‘What’s going on?’ Hanzo yawned, his words slurring around it. Although he preferred his own space while he slept, he nonetheless reached out and grabbed McCree’s arm, pulling himself up onto his elbows. Rubbing his eyes, he stifled another yawn. 'McCree? Are you alright?'

'Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure, darlin,' he replied, looking around the room again.

'Are you sure?' Hanzo repeated.

Sitting in the dark on his bed between them, he found it difficult to determine if he had actually experienced a trip to the spirit world to confront two dragons or if it had all just been an extremely vivid dream. So, he just nodded, and while a disbelieving frown pinched at the corners of Hanzo's lips, he said nothing more. Wrapping his hand around McCree's arm, he encouraged him back into bed. 

McCree allowed himself to be pulled down, wriggling under the covers and wrapping his arm around Genji’s shoulders as he wriggled closer, curling up beside McCree. He felt Hanzo take his hand, rolling onto his side to stare at him. ‘Are you sure you're alright?’

McCree considered the question, staring up at the shadowy ceiling.

‘I think I just got a shovel talk from two dragons.’

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me on [tumblr](http://aluxra.tumblr.com)


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